Darker Than Desire (35 page)

Safety in numbers,
Sybil thought as she turned down her street. Weariness crashed through her at the sight of the squad car, but after David's late-night visit—and the heaviness of his words—she could understand.

Maybe.

She had a feeling his gloom-and-doom outlook was coloring his view on everything, and not just their never-gonna-happen relationship, but she wouldn't risk the safety of the boys.

She waved at Thorpe as she turned in and then looked up at the house. It was quiet, the windows staring blankly back at her. Nothing looked any different. “Okay, boys. Round up the backpacks. Grab lunch boxes, jackets, et cetera, et cetera. I don't want five trips out to the car to get whatever you forgot.”

“What did I forget?” Drew asked, his voice guileless.

“What haven't you forgotten?” She winked at him in the mirror as she pushed the door open. Tension gathered at the base of her neck and she decided some Tylenol was one thing she'd be getting, even if she couldn't get that bath, that twenty minutes away from the world. Tylenol and five minutes on the couch. Maybe even twenty. She'd break her cardinal rule and let the kids play video games during the week.

Blowing out a breath, she eyed her house with more than a little trepidation. It was nothing new. Ever since Taneisha's attack, Sybil had jumped at every little noise, every weird shadow. The other day, she'd left her closet door open and she'd woken up, seen something fluttering and almost screamed. By the time she worked up the courage to turn on the light, she'd been a sweating, nervous wreck—all because the robe she kept hanging on the inside of the door had been fluttering in the breeze caused by her ceiling fan.

Another reason I'll be glad when all this crazy shit is done with,
she thought sourly.
I can stop feeling like some ninny who jumps at every damn thing.

“Come on, guys,” she said, climbing out and heading up the sidewalk. “Don't forget anything.” She waited until the doors shut behind her before she thumbed the lock on her key fob.

They were halfway up the steps when Darnell said it, his voice charming: “Ah, Ms. Chalmers?”

“What did you forget?” she asked, sighing.

“My water bottle. Need to wash it out.”

She unlocked the car with a shake of her head. Shifting the weight of her laptop bag on her shoulder, she glanced at Drew out of the corner of her eye. “You two are going to drive me nuts.”

Drew just grinned. “I guess now is a good time to tell you I left my inhaler in the car.”

“Go.”

*   *   *

The door creaked as it opened.

Sarah's hand was sweaty. The gun felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.
Strong. I have to be strong.
She'd used the gun before. Once. She hadn't even known what she was doing when she'd used it, but she'd been determined and the Lord had guided her.

He would guide her again.

A boy's voice floated through the air.

Her heart clenched.

But she steeled herself against it.

There can be nothing between us.

*   *   *

Behind her, Sybil heard the boys talking. Their voices seemed to come at a distance as she pushed the door open. Had it always creaked so loudly?

She pushed it open, clutching at her keys. Something skittered down her spine and she clutched the door tightly instead of pushing it open for the kids she could hear pounding up the steps of the porch.

From the corner of her eye, she saw somebody move.

Everything inside her tensed. Stilled.

Whirling around, she braced herself between the kids and the house. “Why don't you two go for a walk?” she said brightly.

Something clicked in her ear. A voice, almost soundless, said, “Come inside. Make the boys come inside with you.”

“You two go for a walk,” Sybil said, her voice firm, flat. Not shaking. That was good. She couldn't panic. “And when you're done, you can talk to your friend, Ben.” As she said it, she lifted her gaze, and only her gaze, to the parked police car.

Darnell reached out, his eyes wide, something that might have been fear and understanding flickering in his gaze. He had old eyes, Sybil realized in that moment. Taneisha's kid had old eyes. He reached out and caught Drew's hand. “Come on, Drew. I don't wanna do homework yet.”

“Make them come inside,” the voice insisted, still so very quiet.

“Aunt Sybil—”

“Come on.” Darnell started to back away, his eyes straying to the door Sybil held clutched in her hand.

She heard something click, and at the same time a hard, blunt object shoved into her side. She kept the grunt behind her teeth through sheer force of will.

Something in her eyes finally came across and Drew backed away, still frowning. But he followed Darnell, shooting a look at her over his shoulder as they headed down the stairs.

“Get them back here!”

Slowly, Sybil backed into the house, lifting her hand to wave casually at Ben. He eyed her through the window. The smile on her face felt forced, but she wasn't doing a damn thing until there was more distance between her and those boys. Once they were out of sight, all bets were off.

Carefully, she shut the door. “Ma'am, I don't know what you want. I've got money in my purse,” she said, surprised to hear that her voice was still steady.

“Get the boys.” Her voice was still a whisper.

Slowly, Sybil turned. “No. Did you see the cop car? If I go out there, yelling for them after I just sent them away, that will attract more attention.”

She was blond, Sybil noted. The papers had been too vague in their description, too. She'd place this woman in her early forties, maybe a bit younger, but the harsh set of her face could be making her seem older.

She was also Amish—or she played the part very well.

Something told Sybil that it wasn't a part she played. Which made her blood run cold.

The gun the woman carried looked all too real, and despite the plain clothes the woman wore, despite the little white bonnet that covered her blond hair, she held the gun like she meant to use it.

Sybil felt a familiar tightening in her chest as panic started to flood through her.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Somehow, she didn't see this woman letting her go digging through her purse for the inhaler she only rarely used, but going into a full-fledged asthma attack because she was scared wasn't going to help things, either.

“I have money,” she said softly. “I don't have a lot, but I'll give you—”

“So typical. The English and their greed.” The woman's eyes, a flat, muddy brown, raked over Sybil. “I don't want money.”

“Then what do you want?”

That utter
lack
of emotion scared Sybil to her very core.

Please … God. Tell me Darnell called the cops.

*   *   *

Darnell and Drew rounded the block. “Don't look back,” Darnell whispered. He'd said it every five seconds since they walked away, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Don't look back.”

Once the house was out of view, though, he looked at Drew. “Can you run?”

Drew reached into his pocket and pulled out the inhaler he'd grabbed from the car. He stuck it in his mouth, and a minute later he nodded. “Not for long, but I can. What's wrong?”

Darnell's eyes, wide and dark, moved back to his. “I don't know. But something is. She looked the same way Mom looked the day somebody broke into my aunt's house when we went to visit for Thanksgiving.” He swallowed and then added, “I think somebody might be inside. She wants us to tell Detective Ben. Let's run.”

They dumped their backpacks—maybe he wouldn't have to do his math homework. He hated math. As they started to run, he tried to figure out what was going on. Layla. He bet it was all Layla's fault, whatever it was. That girl was nothing but trouble.

Miss Sybil oughta just—

Automatically he cut the thought off, feeling bad because he knew even
thinking
that would make Mama mad and she was in the hospital and hurt and she didn't need to be mad.

“You breathing—” He stopped as he heard a car. He jerked his head up, everything inside him tensing.

Up ahead, he saw another cop car, going around the block just up ahead. “We should tell him. If somebody is in the house and looks outside and we're talking to Detective Ben, he could hurt your aunt.”

*   *   *

“What do you want?” Sybil asked again. She flicked her eyes to the woman's face, something about her niggling at the back of Sybil's head, but she couldn't figure out what. She knew faces, though. She'd figure out—if she had
time
.

“If you'd stayed away from him,” the woman said, her voice almost sad, the first sign of emotion she'd shown, “I wouldn't have bothered you. But you came between us. You might even be why he left. That's why this has to happen.”

Ice gripped her heart. “Who?” she asked, keeping the fear out of her voice. She already
knew
the answer, though. He'd told her. Warned her.

“You
know
who.” Venom flooded her voice as she eyed Sybil.

“I don't,” she said, shaking her head. Had the boys made it around the block? Had they told Ben? Fuck, the woman was still standing too close to the window. What if she looked outside and saw them?

Sybil had to get her away from the window. Had to get the gun.

“Caine. He belongs with
me
.” The words were spoken through clenched teeth.

David
 … Her heart thudded, hard, against her ribs and misery spread through her. If this bitch hurt her, that would be another bruise, another wound, that he'd carry with him. Sybil knew it as well as her own name. It wouldn't be his fault, but nothing she did or said would change it so that he'd see it otherwise.

So don't let her hurt you.
Easier said than done.

“Lady, he's all yours.” Sybil shrugged, pasting a smile on her face. “Didn't you hear? He dumped me. I guess he's already figured that
yours
thing out.”

The woman blinked, caught off-guard. “Dumped you?”

“Yeah. We're not seeing each other anymore. He doesn't want anything to do with me.” Forcing a casualness into her voice that she didn't feel, she moved a little, circling around so that the woman had to turn away from the window.

That's it. Watch me. Keep watching.…

Wariness edged across the woman's face. “You lie. Whores always lie.”

“Please. No woman is going to lie about a man dumping her. I get that you might not understand that kind of thing—I imagine it's different with men and women where you come from. But with us? It's humiliating.”

“You bring the humiliation on yourself.”

This time, the smile stretching her face was so brittle, it felt like it might crack. “I guess so. I mean, I dunno what I was thinking with him, but trust me, I'm not going down that road again. He's not my type, anyway. I guess he's happier back on that farm.”

“You wouldn't understand,” the woman whispered, her voice low, ugly with malice.

“I guess I wouldn't. I like it here, where I've got a house with air-conditioning, where I can wear jeans and makeup and work a job and date whoever—”

“Whore.” The word was flung out, like a stone, her voice louder.

Sybil shrugged. “If you want to view it like that, hey. Go ahead. Just … put the gun down. I don't have any designs on Caine. He's done with me. I'm happy with that.”

She tried to judge the distance between them. Two feet.

Would she be quick enough?

If she judged wrong and got shot, then she ended up shot. And David would suffer, and Drew would end up back with Layla. But if she didn't do something, she was dead anyway.

I'll only have one chance.…

*   *   *

Edged fury lit inside David's gut as he caught sight of a familiar coat of paint.

Abraham's car.

Whipping his truck around, David turned off Main. Horns blasted behind him. He ignored them. It was harder to ignore the cop up ahead, one who lifted his head and eyed David narrowly as he came to a stop in front of him.

“Mr. Sutter.” Officer Gardiner nodded at him. “Going mighty fast up there.”

“Where is she?” David demanded, ignoring the officer's comment.

“Who?” Gardiner asked, greying brow cocking up.

“The woman who owns the—”

“Help!”

David and the cop both jerked their heads up. Dread twisted in David's gut, vicious and cold, as he saw Drew and a taller, skinny black boy pounding down the sidewalk toward them.

Drew's breath was tight, alarmingly so, and he couldn't speak as he struggled to breathe. But the taller boy could—and did—talk.
Darnell,
David thought absently. His name was Darnell—Taneisha's son. His eyes were huge and wide as he looked from David to the cop.

“Something's wrong. Miss Sybil … I think somebody might be in her house.”

That slow, red drift of rage crept across David's vision. The officer moved to Darnell, but David didn't hear anything. Shifting, he stared through the houses. Just barely, he could make out the back right edge of Sybil's place.

Sarah.

She was at Sybil's.

For him, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

He didn't hear the cop's startled shout, didn't even realize he'd tried to chase him. An Olympic runner could have caught him, but that was probably it, and anybody who tried to stop him was going to go down in a sprawl of pain and blood.

Sybil …

He was in the yard, staring at the back of the house with no memory of running through the yards, of the fences he'd climbed or hurtled to get there. Harsh breaths panted out of him and the emotions that he'd locked awayfor so long were drowning him. Fear. Panic. Rage.